Moving On
by Violet Raven
Summary: {SLC Punk!} Post-movie, Steve-O thinks about Bob.


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Moving On

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Author: Violet Raven

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Rating: R

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Disclaimer: I own nothing from _SLC Punk!_ so please don't sue!

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Summary: After Heroin Bob's funeral, Steve-O reflects.

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A/N: I really thought that the _SLC Punk!_ fandom was too small and decided to take a stab at writing a fic, so it's not great, but if you have any suggestions, feel free to add them in your review. Please be gentle, it's my first fic in this fandom!

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Bob's funeral had gone so well, I almost felt that maybe it was all in my imagination. His death, that is. Maybe I had dreamed it all in some horrible nightmare.

But when I saw the tears on Trish's face, I felt a pang of reality hit like a cemi. It's a cruel thing, reality. Taking away my best friend like that? I don't know, maybe that was my punishment for trying to rebel. Maybe it was all a sign, that I should conform. Crazy shit like this didn't happen to lawyers.

It never even occurred to me that Bob would resent the new me. I only knew that I never wanted anything like this to happen again. So I would live my life like any normal man: get a good job, get married, and make sure that I never stood out.

Maybe my purple hair had singled me out to God. I don't know, if I were God looking down onto the earth and I was looking at the same hair colors day in and out, I would single out the purple.

Ever since Bob died it seems that I've been avoiding the subject at hand, always going off on tangents. Sometimes, though, I know I just have to face reality, accept his death.

But it's so hard.

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My best friend is dead.

How do you deal with something like that? 

I know there's probably nothing to worry about. In the end I'll be okay, Trish and I will pull together and make it through, but right now… it seems like I will never accept this. And if I do, then I'm just being an asshole like I always am. Right? How do you let go of someone without being a jerk about it?

Anyways, today, like most others, I was stuck reminiscing, lying in bed crying over times that maybe never were a reality.

_"Damn," Heroin Bob cried. "Can you believe that we're actually graduating?" He grabbed a cigarette and lit it. "I mean… shit. We made it." He laughed._

I grimaced. "Don't remind me."

"Dude, the ceremony is in an hour, how can you not be thinking about it?" Bob looked at me incredulously, taking a drag of his cigarette.

"Look, I'm happy to be out of school and all, but what are we gonna do after this?" I ran my hands through bright blue hair and slouched back in my chair. "What place is gonna hire a couple of punks?"

Considering this, Bob tugged at his beanie cut specially for his dark Mohawk. "Who gives a shit right now? We're out of school, just think about it a second. Let it sink in," he added, tapping his friend's head. 

I pushed him away. 

"Stop living for the future, man. Who cares where we're going to be five years from now. We'll make it there day by day, right?"

At the time I thought that Bob had a point. Why should _I worry so much about the future? _

To me, Bob was a philosopher. He knew things at times that other people didn't think about, or at least he tried to think differently. I think that's why Trish and him always went so well together. No, he wasn't as philosophical as she was, but two minds that thought about different aspects of life stuck together. 

"Yeah, okay, Bob." I shook my head, pretending that he was speaking bullshit, but I was honestly taking it into consideration. "Can't we just skip the ceremony or something?" I took a swig of my cola and leaned forward comfortably.

"Come on, dude, we have to go. This is a fucking milestone!" He looked like I had just asked him to jump off the Empire State Building. 

"Fine, don't get so uptight. Damn."

Bob shook his head and sat back. "Whatever. Do what you want." He inhaled the smoke and looked away frustrated.

"Bob. Bob, I'm not gonna miss it, okay? I was just posing a question."

There was a pause and then Bob spoke up. "So, you bringing Sally to graduation with you?"

"Sally? We broke up last week."

"Oh."

"You were there."

"Yeah." Bob smiled. "I never liked her. She was a pain in the ass."

"Well," I defender her, "she didn't like you."

Bob shrugged. "I don't care, man. Not like I even have to pretend to like her anymore."

I threw a peanut at him from the table, but didn't say anything. I didn't care, really, I didn't exactly like her either. We were only together for a couple days.

"God. I can't believe we're graduating," Bob muttered.

"Shit, Bob, come on!" I cried.

I don't know exactly why this moment stuck in my head. It was just a normal day for us, well, on those rare days we weren't out partying or causing trouble downtown. But that's what life was- the little moments that stuck for no apparent reason except that you enjoyed them. 

Now, maybe under different circumstances I would have forgotten that memory. But since that day… every little thing seemed more important because I could never make new memories with him.

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Bob.

I miss you so much.

Maybe that sounds ridiculous to you because you haven't lost what I have. Maybe you're even condemning me for becoming who I am, the epitome of my true hatred. But fuck you. I could care less what you think. Bob is dead and there is no more reason to care.

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*~fin~*


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